Letters Home
by DowagerInTraining
Summary: Mr Bates has to go away to London, and Anna doesn't want him to go. Little does she know he's left a few surprises behind for her to find while he's away... (Set between seasons 3-4)


"I can't bear the thought of you being gone for so long."

"It's just one week, my darling."

"It's still a week..."

John paused in his own packing, looking up toward the bedroom doorway to see his wife's eyes brim with tears.

"Come now, what's all this?"

Anna walked over to be folded into his embrace.

"I hate it when you go away. I'm always worried you won't come back."

She didn't need to say any more. The spectre of his long stretch in prison hung in the background, an old ghost that they had never quite shed. They had build their little haven in their cottage, but now John was needed for a week in London, while Lord Grantham attended to various pieces of business which had suddenly mushroomed.

"I wish I were going with you."

"Lady Mary needs you here, and she has no plans to travel right now. We knew this would happen once in a while, Anna."

"I know. I'm just being petty. I miss you when you go, is all."

"I'll be home soon."

"I know, you won't even be gone long enough to write to me."

"You won't miss me that much."

"More than you know."

As John held her in his eyes, a small smile brewed in his cheeks and mischief crept into his eyes. A plan began to form.

–

Two days later, the car was away to the train and nothing was left to do but bear it. With a heavy heart Anna went inside for tea, a welcome sit down and respite for her aching feet, if not her sore heart. At least the whole staff had turned out to see Lord Grantham off, so she had been able to share a last glance with John before he left. And she was right, he would be home soon. He looked so tired, perhaps some time in London would give him a rest.

Sitting at her accustomed place, Anna noticed a little note placed up against her mug. She recognised the handwriting, brightening immediately. John must have slipped it into the servant's hall before he left. She opened it quickly.

 _Darling,_

 _I am barely away, but I miss you already, more than you could know. I will find ways to write, so that you won't miss me too much._

 _Yours always,_

 _JB_

Anna's cheeks coloured, slipping the note into her pocket away from prying eyes. What did he mean, he would find ways to write? Surely he wasn't going to waste his money on post to her from London? They had an agreement that they did not do that, their savings were precious.

"Everything alright Anna?"

"Of course Mrs Hughes."

The older woman smiled kindly at her.

"Don't worry dear. He'll be back before you know it."

"I know Mrs Hughes. I just miss him when he's away is all."

The others filed in, settling down to tea and cake and as much gossip as they could slip past Mr Carson's nose. Anna traced her finger over the edge of the note in her pocket and pondered what John could have possibly meant.

…

The day dragged. Much as it would be lonely without him, Anna longed to be home at the cottage. The walk back was dark, and Mr Carson had even suggested that she might wish to stay at the house rather than walk home alone, but Anna preferred to be in her own space, surrounded by her husband's things, even if he could not be with her.

She was surprised to see the note propped up on the table, but the handwriting made her smile all over again. How many notes had he left for her?

This one wasn't addressed. It just had a simple instruction.

" _Read this when you go to bed."_

Bemused, Anna pocketed the note and set about locking up, going upstairs to change for bed.

Propped up against the headboard, hugging her knees to her for warmth beneath her dressing gown, she unfolded the note. It smelt of him, a musky smell, like the pomade he wore on his hair.

 _My little minx_

Her stomach turned over at the sight of his pet name for her.

 _I wish I could be there to keep you warm, but my words will have to keep you company. I hope you know that I long for the taste of your lips, the touch of your fingers against mine, the press of you up against me, every night we are apart. Ever since our wedding night, I have never felt whole without you sleeping beside me._

 _Though given my chance tonight, you would not sleep._

Anna's eyes widened as he eyes skimmed over the rest of the note, feeling herself blush.

 _Had I my way, I would fold you into my arms and let my fingers trace over every one of your beautiful curves. I would love you with my every touch, every kiss, until we became one with each other, the way we always should be. I would hold you on the edge of your pleasure and strive to give you everything you deserve._

 _Had I may way tonight, I would worship you, body and soul, for you are my goddess, my summit of joy and my own and ever loving wife. Until I return, hold these words close and know that I love you, and am thinking of you._

 _Yours always,_

 _JB_

Anna reached with a shaking hand for her mug of water. John's letters to her from prison had been tempered, filled with affection but not desire, knowing as he did that they would be read by the prison officers before sending them on to her. He had been gentle, full of plans and gossip, news and future hopes. But this...

It made her burn with longing for him, to know how he desired her so.

Curling up to sleep, Anna hid the paper beneath her pillow, feeling a rosy blush spread through her veins at the thought of her husband's loving attentions.

…

The following morning there were two more notes. One propped up against the milk in the larder, the other folded inside the tea caddy.

 _[We go together..._

 _...like milk and tea]_

Anna's heart melted at the idea of him taking the time to write such a thing. Her morning tea tasted a little sweeter for it.

Walking up to the house, she found herself smiling, something she would never have thought possible the day before. She missed him, of course. But it was as though he was still there with her.

…

The day flew, in contrast to the previous one. Lady Grantham had guests to dinner, in an effort to distract herself from her own husband's absence. Anna found herself sharing a secret sympathy with the Countess for once, knowing that she was enduring separation from the man she loved as well.

At luncheon, Anna found another note beside her plate.

This puzzled her. It hadn't been there yesterday. What on earth was going on?

Quickly, she slit the envelope, read the few brief words and swallowed her shocked grin.

 _Eat up. You will need your strength and energy when I get home to you...!_

"What's that you've got there Anna?"

"Nothing Mr Carson, just a reminder note."

Anna hastily seated herself, wishing her cheeks would cool down, hoping that the rest of the staff hadn't noticed her flush.

…

On the third day, when Anna dressed for work in the morning, found another note in the pocket of her clean dress. This one was a poem.

 _Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?  
Thou art more lovely and more temperate..._

The words were dearly familiar, she recalled John reading aloud to her from his collection of Shakespeare's sonnets. Sometimes in the evenings, they would take turns to read, sharing their favourite works. This one had filled her with delight. She warmed inside at his remembrance of her preferences.

There was a swift note scribbled at the bottom.

 _For my own May Queen, my Anna May Bates._

The kettle whistled downstairs, reminding Anna that she had to run if she wanted tea, or she would be late for form.

…

"Anna...?"

"Yes Mr Carson?"

"This was in the evening post pile for you, but there was no stamp on it. I do hope we don't get charged for this one."

"I'm sure it was an oversight Mr Carson, but let me know if there is a charge and I will pay for it."

"Hmmm..."

Poor Mr Carson. He did like things to be done properly. But Anna knew there would be no charge. This note hadn't come with the postman. Looking around at her fellow staff, Anna wondered who could possibly be in on the little post scheme that Mr Bates was running for her. Someone must be helping him. Putting her quick wits to it, she could probably find out who, but truth be told she was enjoying the surprises and didn't want to spoil them.

The letter was longer this time. Scanning quickly over it, Anna jumped to hear Lady Mary's bell ringing, and promised herself five minutes in the courtyard to read it properly later.

…

The wait was worth it. Or so every romantic bone in Anna's body told her.

 _My darling wife,_

 _We are now half way through our week apart and I miss you more than mere ink on paper can say. Nowhere is home without you now and I long to be back in your arms again._

 _I think of you hourly, and envy you all of the little rituals I have come to enjoy sharing with you. You smile across our breakfast table, the touch of your fingers passing me a tea cup and the extra biscuit you sneak onto my saucer. I notice, and I know it should be yours, but I will never say so to you, so let it be our little secret._

 _I miss the way you brush your hair, the way you fasten your shoes and the little songs you hum as you clean our dishes, because they are all things you share with me and no-one else. I miss the swing of your coat when you walk, the sound of your steps on the stairs, the way your nose and ears turn red when it's cold, because they are the things I cherish which nobody else notices._

 _You are my treasure and delight and I long to reclaim you._

 _Sleep well and be comforted. We are closer to being together again with every second from now._

 _Yours, always,_

 _JB_

Anna stroked her fingers over the paper, marvelling that her stoic and steadfast husband could have summoned up such romantic words and notions for her. She longed to see his face, to tell him how much she loved him and everything about him.

"Anna, Lady Mary is ringing for you..."

No rest for the wicked. Folding the paper away safely, Anna scurried back to work.

…

The next day, Anna was almost disappointed to find that there were no further notes hidden in the kitchen. She searched the bathroom and the rest of the bedroom, hoping that there had been one more overlooked hiding place. Just as she was giving up and reaching for her coat, there was a knock at the door.

It was Tommy, the postman.

"Parcel for you Mrs Bates. Note said specifically to bring it here, not to the house. I'm on my way up, thought I'd drop it in since your light was on."

"Thank you Tommy."

"Cheerio!"

Despite knowing that she would have to run to make it to the house on time, Anna couldn't resist opening it. It was only small, and beneath the brown paper there was a small black box, discretely embossed with an emblem from one of the finer modistes in London.

What on earth had John been buying?

Inside, nestled in tissue paper, there was a garter. A black one, flimsy and delicate, a delicious confection of lace with a small red rose of ribbon stitched into the side.

Anna's breath caught in her throat. Had he really been and bought this? For her? Oh what a wicked man...

There was a card nestled in the bottom. The handwriting was his.

" _For when I get home. It's about time you had a new one."_

Anna's knees turned weak. How was she ever going to make it until Saturday, when it was only Thursday morning?

Twice that day Mary had to prompt her about her tasks. Anna spent most of it in a daydream.

…

Friday morning. Only one more night to go, and he would be home by tea time on Saturday. Perhaps if Lord Grantham wanted an early night, they might be able to slip away early to their cottage and...

"Careful Anna, that tea cup will overflow!"

"Sorry Mrs Hughes."

"Heaven's sakes, what's the matter with you? You look like you're in a daze."

"Sorry Mrs Hughes. I didn't sleep too well last night, that's all."

"Ah well." The look of sympathy was back in the kindly housekeeper's face. "Just try not to pour tea all over the table dear."

Anna usually liked Fridays. They were social days, the house often had company in the evening, which livened things up a little. Often people would come to stay over Saturday and Sunday, but this weekend things were quiet.

Deathly so.

Lady Mary and Lady Edith went to have dinner with their grandmother the Dowager Countess, Branson was out at a political meeting with Mrs Crawley and Lady Cora decided to skip any formal dinner and had a tray in her room. Time hung heavy on everyone's hands in the servant's hall that night, even if their own dinner could be served a little earlier than usual.

Anna's fingers ached by the time she finished her stitching work. Heaven knows what Lady Mary did to her frocks to rent them along the most awkward seams, but at least this one was back in one sturdy piece now. Hanging it up carefully in the laundry room, she sighed, rubbing the small of her back.

Turning to the small case of books near the piano in the servant's hall, she pulled out Jane Eyre, a much battered and dearly loved favourite of hers, which she could happily dip into whenever there was chance and not mind being called out of at short notice.

The book fell open towards the end. There was another note.

He had known. He had known that in his absence she would reach for the comfort of an old favourite.

There was no doubt that it was meant for her, although there was no name, nothing to identify who had written it or who it was intended for. Nothing apart from the meaning of the words.

 _Reader, she married him. And thus began his very own happy ending._

Absently, smiling to herself, Anna twisted her wedding ring around her finger, musing over how lovely it was to be considered someone else's happy ending.

…

Saturday morning and Anna's fingers were all thumbs as she hurried to dress. Feeling naughty, she fastened on the garter beneath her work dress, relishing the feel of the raspy lace against the inside of her thigh. She hoped John would not be too tired. She was longing for him to see her wearing it tonight. Perhaps she wouldn't be wearing it very long...

She shivered at the thought, hurrying her last mouthful of tea before rushing out of the door.

She had counted down the days and now the hours were slipping away. They would be home on the afternoon train.

At breakfast there was one more note, wedged between her cup and saucer.

" _I hope you're wearing my present. I'll be checking later."_

Anna flushed, hastily stuffing the note into her pocket., a warm clenching in her stomach making her feel giddy all of a sudden. The lace rasped against her skin as she sat down, a tangible reminder that her wait was almost over.

…

The car pulled up the drive. Anna fought to stand still, the last shreds of her composure holding her back from running to meet the car.

"Darling, how wonderful to have you home..."

"Hello, dearest Cora..."

How wonderful it would be, to be like Lord and Lady Gratham, able to express such affection in public to each other.

But how could she long for anything else when the object of her desires and affection was smiling at her as he unbuckled the luggage from the back of the car, his eyes dark and hot with longing for her, seeing right to the core of her soul.

He was called away, to oversee the unpacking. There was no time for talking, just one long shared glance and a silent promise of their reunion later on.

He was home safe. Under the same roof. That would do for now.

…

Two hands covered her eyes as she stood at the table cleaning Lady Mary's boots.

"Surprise," whispered a soft voice in her ear.

The scent of her husband infused all of Anna's senses. Turning to face him, feeling the warmth of him standing near her, Anna felt her joy almost shining out of her skin.

"Welcome home."

"It's good to be back."

Leaning in he stole a quick kiss, capturing her hand and whispering in her ear.

"Not home yet... but we have the night off."

"Truly?"

"A gift from his Lordship. Once we have dressed them all for dinner, we can go."

John pushed the door slightly closed, moving slightly closer to her, backing her up against the table. His right hand slipped, quick as lightning, under the hem of her dress, his fingers stroking up her thigh to where the garter nestled.

Anna caught her breath, amazed at his daring. Surely someone would come in at any moment.

"Ahhh..." he said softly, grinning at her wickedly. "So my present arrived safely."

Biting at her top lip, aching for the loss of his touch as he withdrew his hand, Anna was overcome with a need for revenge. Seizing the lapels of his jacket, she leaned close to his ear.

"You can unwrap me later..."

With a quick kiss on the cheek, she hurried back to work, a deep ache nestling in the pit of her stomach, as John looked after her with wild longing etched over every line of his face.

…

John waited in the servant's hall for Anna. Surely she wouldn't be much longer, Lord Grantham had already gone down to dinner.

"Pssst! Mr Bates!"

Daisy's bright little face peeped around the door.

"Ah... My little postwoman!"

"I think I delivered them all, she never saw me."

"Thank you Daisy, thank you very much."

"Aw, you know me Mr Bates. Anything for a romantic secret."

Hearing footsteps, Daisy turned to see Anna coming down the stairs, flashed a quick smile at John and ran back to the kitchen.

"Ready to go?"

Anna already had her coat over her arm. Clearly she couldn't wait to be gone. He hoped she had enjoyed the notes. It had been worth staying up on their last night to write them once she had fallen asleep, and then co-opting Daisy to deliver the ones she had found at the house.

Anna was so bright and happy to see him, so obviously filled with desire for him that his stomach crunched just looking at her. Smiling down into her beautiful face, John proudly escorted his wife out of the door, heading home for the cottage, where he fully intended to inspect his present.


End file.
